


what you buried

by gloriousfail



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, M/M, POV Outsider, Social Media, mentions of Lardo and Bits if you squint, only imaginary flowers were harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-11-30 04:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousfail/pseuds/gloriousfail
Summary: Maya may be new to Providence, but she still knows what Jack Zimmerman looks like. Especially after he runs into her at the park. Literally.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I moved to Providence not too long ago, and I've been wanting to write a fic set here ever since. It's a great little city. The OC's, Maya and Elise, have been floating around in my head for a while. This finally felt like the right story for the two of them.
> 
> This could be finished, but it probably isn't. I have a few ideas. If it seems like people want more, I might write it. :)  
> EDIT: HAHAHAHA I thought this was finished. It isn't - there will be two more chapters because I keep thinking I'm finished and then it keeps getting longer. 
> 
> Oh, also - sorry to E! news.

Barely a month after moving to Rhode Island, Maya runs into the Captain of the Providence Falconers in a park. Or, more accurately, Jack Zimmermann runs into her.

“Ope,” he says, from his new position on the ground.“Sorry, sorry.” And that’s when he pulls Maya’s bouquet out from underneath his impressively large hockey ass. They both stare wide-eyed as the whole thing flops sadly in his hand. One of the roses drops a petal.

Maya groans and lays back on the concrete path. “Great. Just great.”

“Sorry,” Zimmermann repeats, like a true Canadian stereotype. Maya is getting tired of hearing that word. “I can-”

“The next words out of your mouth better be ‘buy you a new one’,” Maya says, before she can stop herself. She really should learn how to stop herself. He’s a hockey player- if he wanted to, he could totally just beat her up and continue on his run like nothing happened.

To her surprise, Zimmermann just chuckles. “Yeah, I can do that.” He gets up first, and Maya is treated to an up-close and personal view of his famous (infamous?) yellow sneakers before he holds out a hand to help her up. Huh.

Zimmermann seems to know where he’s going. He strides up the path, across the cobblestone bridge, then turns left without hesitation when they reach Wickenden Street. Maya has to jog a bit to catch up, at first, her 5’4” frame making it difficult to keep pace. But before too long he seems to notice her struggling and slows down, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm.

“Sorry,” He says again, somewhat sheepishly. Maya resists the urge to roll her eyes. “One of my best friends is even shorter than you, she’s always yelling at me for walking too fast.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and shrugs, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’d think I’d get used to it but I never do.”

“I’ll have you know,” Maya retorts, “that I am _average_ height. And tall for Indian women.”

“Sure,” he says, indulgent, and then they walk into the flower shop.

From the outside, it doesn’t look like much. It’s an old building, half brick, half awkward green vinyl siding. but the front entrance is lined with leafy potted plants, and once inside, Maya is embraced by the comforting smell of hundreds of cut flowers. The warm brown floor tiles and stone walls make the whole place even homier.

The florist knows him. That’s clear in the first 30 seconds, when the woman behind the counter looks up, beams, and says, “Jack!” She glances briefly at Maya, seems to recognize her from before, then looks back to Zimmermann, confused. “Can I get your usual bouquet started, or...?”

Zimmerman- no, _Jack_ shakes his head. “Thanks Krista, not today. We’re here for her- I ran into her flowers and damaged them.”

“He sat on them,” Maya clarifies. It seems like a relevant point.

“Oh! I’m so sorry to hear that!” Krista says, her face turning apologetic, “I’m afraid we can’t refund-”

“No, no, that’s alright,” Jack cuts her off, waving a hand. “I’ve got it. I’m the one who squashed them, after all. You can charge my account.” His account. Jack Zimmerman has an _account_. At a _flower shop_. And not only that, he has a _usual bouquet_.

“You have an _account_?” she hisses up at him.

“Euh, yeah?” Jack says, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I buy a lot of flowers.”

“Jack comes in nearly every week,” Krista gushes, leaning eagerly over the counter. “That girl of yours is so lucky to have you!”

“Haha. Yeah.” Jack says. “B loves getting them.”

“Your girlfriend’s name is Bee?” Maya asks. She doesn’t miss the slight grimace on his face.

“It’s a nickname,” he says, clearly uncomfortable.

There’s an awkward silence for a moment until Krista remembers to do her job. “Well!” she says, clapping her hands together and smiling at Maya. “Let’s get something made up for you. Same size as before? With the orange roses?”

“Yes please.”

Krista hurries away to gather flowers, so Maya turns to survey the displays for the second time that day. Jack follows.  

“Is today a special occasion?” he asks, as Maya reaches up to caress the petal of a single orchid.

“Yeah,” she says. “Three year anniversary with my girlfriend.”

She isn’t looking at him when she says it, but she can feel his startled reaction- the sharp breath, the initial tension, then the way he forces himself to relax. Fucking typical.

“Girlfriend?” he says, and his voice sounds- not how she expected. Soft.

Maya moves to stare defiantly up at him, doing her best to look intimidating, despite the dramatic height difference. Just in case. “Girlfriend. You got a problem with that?”

Jack laughs. It’s surprisingly full-bodied. “Trust me, no, I don’t have a problem.”

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Maya says later, as they’re standing outside the florist, a new bouquet in her arms. “You’re not at all like how they portray you in the media.”

“Oh,” Jack says, blue eyes going wide. “I didn’t realize you-”

“I’m not a fan,” Maya rushes to say. There’s a moment of silence as Maya looks away and Jack looks on, amused. “Elise’s brother plays hockey,” she says, finally. “He’s so fucking enthusiastic, it’s hard not to pick some of it up.”

“Do you want me to sign something for him?”

Maya shrugs. “I don’t have pen or paper. You?”

“No.” Jack holds his hands out from his body, to demonstrate how little he’s carrying.

“Well, I guess Fred will just have to meet you himself,” Maya says. It isn’t impossible- the Falconers are still a new team, trying to build their fan base through outreach into the community. It feels like Maya hears about some new charity event every week.

Jack grins at her. “Hah, I guess he will.”

The two of them fall back into step toward the park. At the bridge, Jack sticks out his hand for her to shake.

“I’m going to run from here, but nice meeting you,” he says, with a smile that seems more genuine than they do in most of his interviews, “even if you aren’t a fan. Sorry again about the flowers.”

“Well if anyone’s big ass was going to land on my flowers, I’m glad it was yours.” Maya chirps. “At least I know you can afford them!”

Jack, already jogging lightly backwards, just chuckles and turns to run down the path, waving goodbye as he does. Maya watches him go. (So sue her, it _is_ an impressive ass.)

 

* * *

 

Not too much later, Maya rounds a bend in the path to see Elise waiting for her, lounging on one of the waterfront benches. She's laying with her head pillowed on one wooden armrest, long blonde hair spilling over the side. One leg is bent up on the bench and the other dangles over, toe scraping against dirt. 

As soon as she sees Maya, Elise sits upright, vibrating with excitement. “Maya, oh my God- you won’t believe who I just saw run past!”

“Jack Zimmermann, Alternate Captain of the Providence Falconers?” Maya says, wryly, moving Elise's leg to take a seat on the bench. She leans over to drop a kiss on her girlfriend’s lips and then hands her the bouquet.

“Yes, how did you- oh, these are beautiful, Maya,” she says, momentarily distracted. “Thank you.” She leans in to kiss Maya a second time. “Happy three years.”

“You can thank Jack Zimmermann, actually,” Maya says, once Elise has pulled away. “He bought them- the second time around, at least.”

Elise, confused, looks up from admiring the bouquet. “Sorry, he did what?”

 

* * *

 

Maya fully expects that to be the last time she ever sees Jack Zimmermann. In person, at least- she’s sure the newspaper and TV will never shut up about him. But she doesn’t expect to be a part of it.

The next morning, Maya sits at the kitchen table with her coffee and watches Elise make omelets. The radio’s on, and Elise is swaying her hips absentmindedly and singing along to snatches of lyrics.

Fuck, but Maya loves her.

So of course, that’s when her phone lights up with a notification from Twitter. It’s from one of her coworkers, who mostly uses Twitter to retweet memes and send her links to cat videos. Not that Maya’s complaining about that.

 

 **falcsRUS-sel** @russel_w

lol @masohani isnt this you? Do I need 2 warn elise? eonli.ne/2dgXtf7

 

When she opens the link, it takes a few moments for her morning-muddled mind to register what she’s seeing- two photos of her standing next to Jack Zimmermann, a bouquet of flowers cradled in one arm.

They must have been taken from across the street, zoomed to the limit and slightly grainy. In one photo, Maya’s head is tilted up to look at Jack, and Jack looks back with a faint smile on his face. In the next, Maya is facing away from the camera but Jack is grinning broadly. If she didn’t know better, she knows exactly what it would look like.

“Fuck.”

“Maya?” Elise asks, concern in her voice. Maya just gestures at the phone, and Elise moves to see the screen, “Fuck,” she echoes.

Maya starts to read the article out loud. 

>  " ** _Falconer Zimmermann Seen Buying Flowers For Mystery Girl_**
> 
>   _Alternate Captain Jack Zimmermann has been famously tight lipped about his relationship status ever since he signed with the Falconers, saying in a recent interview that he wouldn’t be answering questions about his personal life. “I hope our fans understand that I want to keep certain things private, at least for now,” he said. Well, we can’t begrudge him that._

“Jesus Christ,” Elise interrupts. “They’re going to say that and still think sharing some grainy stalker-photo is justified?”

“Apparently,” Maya says, grimacing.

>   _"Bu_ _t who can blame us for wanting to know who Providence’s most eligible bachelor might be dating?_

“Well I sure can.”

“Shhh, let me read it.”

> _“Jack was seen just yesterday exiting an East Providence flower shop with a beautiful custom bouquet and a girl on his arm,_

“-oh hell, I was hardly on his arm. We’re like a foot apart!” 

> _“-as you can see in these photos, submitted by an anonymous fan. The two of them reportedly lingered outside of the shop for several minutes before walking toward India Point Park, where Zimmermann continued his regular morning run._
> 
> _But who’s the girl? With her gorgeous dark skin, short stature, and brown hair, this mystery girl breaks the mold of traditional hockey girlfriends and wives, a group populated mostly by the tall and blonde.”_

 

“ _Fuck_ that.” Maya puts the phone down with perhaps a little too much force. “I can’t read the rest.”

Elise picks up the phone and scrolls through the rest of the article, eyebrows pinched together as she reads. “There’s not much else to it. They talk a bit about this year’s season, and then just conclude that Jack could have anyone he wanted.”

Maya rolls her eyes. “ _Oh, Jack_ ,” She says, voice falsely high and breathless, “ _if only you would date one of us instead of that poor girl!_ ”

Elise grins, leaning in to cage Maya in her arms. “Too bad that gorgeous, talented, wickedly smart girl is already taken.”

“Too bad,” Maya says, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend. “He does have a great ass.”

 

* * *

 

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

Harold, I’m a lesbian @PVDfalcs @enews

>   **E! News** @enews
> 
> Falconers Alternate Captain Jack Zimmermann bought a bouquet for a mystery girl yesterday- See the exclusive photos! eonli.ne/2dgXtf7
> 
>  

* * *

 

“But you aren’t a lesbian,” Elise says, when she sees the tweet. The two of them are spread out on the couch, Elise’s longer legs stretching over Maya’s lap.

“It was too good of an opportunity to pass up,” Maya says, unconcerned. “Besides, I’m mostly lesbian.”

“You’re bi though.”

“Barely.”

“Maya.” Elise is giving her the stern, unimpressed face. Damn it.

 

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

Replying to @masohani @PVDfalcs @enews

My girlfriend wants everyone to know that I’m actually bi. Still not dating Zimmermann

 

“Better?”

“Better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've based all of the locations on real places. The flower shop is Studio 539. You can actually see inside the building in [google maps](https://www.google.com/maps/@41.8193919,-71.3998397,3a,75y,253.62h,84.92t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sb94w07FBW-oAAAQJOCyqBg!2e0!7i13312!8i6656)! 
> 
> Then, of course, there's [India Point Park](https://www.google.com/maps/@41.817919,-71.3923675,3a,75y,221.46h,87.78t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1swdFvHnH-ccLwHuWyS15vzw!2e0!7i13312!8i6656). Jack would definitely run through here- this path connects to another one that goes all the way to Bristol, RI. I imagine the locals would get really used to seeing him run past in those yellow shoes.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://thegloriousfail.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk more about Maya and Elise! I'm always happy to share headcanons about them if you ask! (please do, I have so many little tidbits about them)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Hi. I was blown away by the positive response I got from this, so… I’m continuing it? Thank you for all of your comments and love.
> 
> I would like everyone to know that when I chose Russel’s name in the first chapter, it was totally just so I could give him the twitter name falcsRUS-el (Like Falcs-are-us. He’s kind of a huge fan). Anyway I didn’t remember until later that Russel is usually spelled with 2 L’s. Whoops. I think it fits him anyway.

“Wait, so you’re telling me _Jack Zimmermann_ sat on your flowers and then just _bought you new ones_?”

“Why are you surprised about this?” Maya asks, sliding a book onto the shelf by the front door. “You saw the pictures.”

Russel groans. “Come _on_ , Maya. It’s not like I believed anything in that article. It was fucking racist.” He jumps up to sit on the front counter, leans back to grab his iced coffee from the desk, and sips loudly from the straw as he watches Maya work.

“Are you gonna help me out with these?” Maya asks, idly, as she shoves another book into place.

“Not if I can help it,” Russel says, the lazy butt. “Anyway, you and Elise are the best couple I know. I don’t think you’d drop her on your anniversary, even for super-sexy Jack Zimmermann.”

Maya smirks at him. “Great hockey-ass Zimmermann.”

“Oh my God, how is it?” Russel asks, leaning forward eagerly. “Is it that good in person?”

“Even better.”

Russel grins and holds out a fist. Maya bumps it.

“No but really, I didn’t know what to expect when I saw that,” Russel continues, after taking another sip of his coffee. His heels knock against the wood of the counter. “I didn’t even think it was you for a minute.”

“He was actually pretty nice,” Maya says. “He’s always so stiff in the interviews you show me.”

Russel waves a hand, dismissive. “He’s fine in the behind-the-scenes stuff. He’s just awkward when he’s talking to reporters.”

Maya nods, then grabs another stack of books to shelve. “I’ll keep doing these,” she warns, waving a paperback copy of _Twilight_ in his direction, “but then you have to do bathrooms.”

“Oh _hell no_.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

 

* * *

 

That seems like the end of it. Things go back to normal- news outlets don’t print any more grainy photos of Maya, the Falconers start their season, and Providence keeps moving at its own slow and steady pace through autumn.

In mid October, Maya wakes to the sound of the front door slamming shut and Elise yelling her name. She curls even deeper into her comforter and waits, hears Elise murmur to another person in the kitchen, hears faint laughter, hears the crinkle of paper bags and then Elise’s soft footsteps heading toward the bedroom.

“Maya, are you still in bed? It’s almost noon!” Elise says, before sitting down on the bed and peeling the comforter down from Maya’s face. Elise is smiling, face still a bit flushed from laughter and the first hint of cold weather.

“That means it’s still morning,” Maya replies, voice husky with sleep. “How was the farmer’s market?”

The grin that spreads across Elise’s face is almost criminal. “You won’t believe who I met.”

“Oh, no way, you’re not telling this story without me,” says the other voice from the kitchen. That’s Nicole. “Maya, get your butt out of bed and come out where I can talk to you!”

Nicole, as much as she likes to deny it, is not the sort of person you say no to. She’s tall and effortlessly cool in the way Maya thinks French models must be, if you infused that remarkable _coolness_ into a girl who laughs at fart jokes and spends most of her time researching turtle sex. So Maya obediently rolls out of bed and shuffles into the kitchen behind Elise, one of their blankets still wrapped around her shoulders, and nods a greeting at the other girl.

“Glad you could join us,” Nicole says, with a surprising lack of sarcasm. “We have fresh bread and jam from the market if you want some.”

Jam and bread clearly aren’t the only things they bought- the kitchen counter is overflowing with produce. Maya can see carrots spilling out of their bag next to several heads of lettuce, a bag full of green beans, and one for tomatoes. Yet another bag, just for apples, looks ready to topple over if not for the watermelon sitting next to it.

Maya, despite her objections, ends up with a plate stuffed full of toast, each piece topped with a different flavor of jam. One of them keeps slipping off the edge of the plate. “I don’t know if I can-”

“Trust me,” Elise says, “you’re going to want it all.”

She’s right. The first bite of toast explodes in flavor on her tongue, the jam sharp and sweet and tangy in all the right ways. Maya looks up to find Elise and Nicole watching her expectantly. “Holy shit,” she says, mouth still full of toast.

Elise smirks. “Told you.” She leans in to grab a piece of toast off of Maya’s plate, who grumbles but lets her, and takes a reverential bite.

“Okay,” Nicole says, brandishing a sticky knife in Maya’s direction, “Now guess who made it.” The knife goes in the sink.

“The jam? Some grandma probably,” Maya assumes, far too absorbed by her breakfast to try any harder. Nicole frowns at her.

Elise laughs. “Not quite.” Then, impatient for Maya’s reaction, she exclaims, “It was Eric, from omgcheckplease!”

Maya just looks back at her in confused silence.

Elise rolls her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, you’ve seen some of his videos with me. The blonde, southern boy who does baking videos? He has a market booth!”

“The one who used to be a figure skater?” Maya asks, stretching her mind for every detail. She can almost remember him- the shaggy blonde hair shaved short in later videos, the lilting southern accent. “Didn’t he end up going to college around here?”

“That’s the one,” says Nicole. She has a handful of green beans and is eating them raw, each one crunching loudly in their small kitchen.  “He went to Samwell.”

“Samwell? But that’s where-”

“That’s where Jack Zimmermann went,” Elise confirms, grinning again. “They’re best friends.”

“No. You can’t be serious.” Maya looks back and forth between Elise and Nicole, a horrifying realization dawning in her imagination. “Did you _tell him_ about me?”

Elise flushes with embarrassment. “Well-”

“You bet we did,” Nicole says, unrepentant.

“He was very sweet about it,” Elise assures her. “He said it was an honor to meet Jack’s fake girlfriend’s girlfriend.”

“Oh no.”

“That’s not even the best part,” says Nicole. “ _Apparently_ , he already follows you on Twitter.”

Maya can only lay her head down on the table and groan.

 

* * *

 

That, really, should have been the end of it.

And it is- until one day the next week, when Elise meets Maya on her lunch break and the two of them wander into a coffee shop. Maya gets her cup and disappears into it, letting the steam waft up to heat her face. Bless.

“Maya,” Elise says a few moments later, nudging her out of coffee-induced bliss. “Your phone is buzzing.”

 

**falcsRUS**

@russel_w

> yo have u seen this

> eonli.ne/2dkHeRi

> i mean obvs not or u wouldve said

> anyway

> u should

 

Maya opens the link, and immediately regrets it. “Oh for _fuck’s_ sake.” Elise wiggles curiously in her seat, so Maya scoots around the table to show her the screen, still clutching desperately at her mug of coffee.

**_Zimmermann Refuses to Confirm Relationship Status_ **

It isn’t an article this time - it’s a video. A post-game interview, by the looks of it, camera shaking and microphone shoved in close to Zimmermann’s face. He looks exhausted, but he’s answering questions, taking a moment here and there to wipe sweat off his forehead with a towel that drapes around his neck.

 _“-not playing the way we wanted,”_ Jack says, voice low and gravelly, _“but hopefully this game can teach us something. We, euh, we know we’ve got some things to work on from here.”_ Jack nods to himself and after a moment without another question, that seems to be the end the interview. He begins to turn away.

 _“Jack, change of topic here,”_ says a thin voice, from outside the frame. Jack readjusts in his seat, face carefully smooth of any frustration. _“Obviously those recent dating rumors were unsubstantiated-_ ” Jack nods, eyes narrowed, “ _but is there anything else you can share with the fans about your love life? Surely a guy like you can’t stay single for long._ ”

 _“You’ve been wrong about my love life before,_ ” Jack says. “ _Why are you still asking about it now?_ ” Maya can tell he’s on edge. She knows what a relaxed Jack Zimmerman looks like, and this sure isn’t it.

_“So you’re single?”_

_“Like I’ve said before, I won’t be commenting on my personal life.”_

_“That doesn’t really answer-”_

_“I’ve told you, you won’t be getting an answer,”_ he says, voice clipped. _“Excuse me.”_

The video cuts away when Jack stands up, and Maya closes the tab without listening to any of the mind numbing commentary sure to follow.

Elise slumps back in her seat. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that visibly angry. He’s never comfortable with the media, but that…”

“He’s making speculation more intense by refusing to say anything,” Maya comments, thumbing through some of the comments on the video. “Most people just think his girlfriend is really shy or he’s really private, but a few have linked to the article about me, and at least ten think he’s secretly dating Maskov.”

Elise laughs. “Can you imagine?”

Maya puts the phone down and takes another long sip of coffee. “I mean, it’s not impossible, but don’t think Jack would call Alexi Mashkov ‘Bee’.”  

“He did tell you it was a nickname,” Elise points out.

“Bee, though? For Mashkov.”

“Oh, okay, okay- bear with me. Um. Does his middle name start with a B?”

“Nope. It’s Vladimirovich.”

“You know,” Elise says thoughtfully, eyes glinting as she studies Maya from across the table, “for someone who isn’t a hockey fan, you sure know an awful lot about it.”

 

* * *

 

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

Just gonna leave this here again… @enews @PVDfalcs

> **Maya-papaya** @masohani
> 
> Replying to @masohani @PVDfalcs @enews
> 
> My girlfriend wants everyone to know that I’m actually bi. Still not dating Zimmermann

**Maya-papaya** @masohani

Replying to @masohani @enews @PVDfalcs

I met Jack Zimmermann for 15 minutes 2 months ago & I still have hockey fans asking me what type of soap he uses

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

Replying to @masohani @enews @PVDfalcs

Just leave the guy alone

 

 **JZimms is Life** @habbot

Replying to @masohani

Wait do u actually know what soap he uses?? o.O

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

Replying to @habbot

NO

 

* * *

 

“Hey hey hey, Maya.”

“What.”

“Irish Spring or Dove. Or Axe.”

“ _No_ , Russel.”

“But _Maya_ , I _need_ to know what Zimmerman smells like _._ ”

“Go back to work.”

“Maya.”

“No.”

“Maya.”

“I’m sure he smells like man. Go away.”

 

* * *

 

At this point, Maya isn’t sure there will ever be an end to it. So when she sees Jack standing in the middle of hundreds of glowing, elaborately carved pumpkins in Roger Williams Park Zoo, what she mostly feels is a resigned sort of acceptance.

“Dammit,” she says. “Jack Zimmermann is here.”

Elise, the fingers of one hand delicately intertwined with Maya’s, startles and looks around. “What? Where?”

“There, by the tree.”

Jack is standing still, hands in his jacket pockets, and leaning slightly back to stare at dozens of tiny pumpkin lanterns suspended from a craggy, leafless tree. behind him, the sky is just going purple with twilight, but there’s enough light from the pumpkins to bathe his face in an orange glow.

“Can we go talk to him?” Elise says, and Maya doesn’t have to look up to know that there are some serious puppy eyes directed her way.

“Dammit,” Maya repeats, but the two of them wind through the zoo paths toward him anyway.

“Jack?” It feels kind of wrong coming out of her mouth. Too informal, like she should be calling him ‘Jack Zimmermann’ at least. Or maybe ‘Captain’. But then he turns around to look at them, and she sees his professional persona slide away as soon as he recognizes her.

“Hi again.” He’s smiling. “Maya, right?”

After only seeing games and media interviews for the past two months, this version of Jack seems strangely open. He’s dressed casually, in a basic black jacket and a baseball cap, and a fancy camera hangs on a strap around his neck. He seems more like a tourist than a professional hockey player.

“Yeah. Hey,” Maya says. She gestures at Elise. “This is my girlfriend. Who you bought flowers for. Elise.”

“Hey,” he says, holding out his hand to shake. “Elise. Happy three year anniversary. Glad I could help you celebrate.”

“Wow,” says Elise.

“Are you here by yourself?” Maya asks. The words sound more rude than she intended, but Jack doesn’t seem to notice.

“No, I’m here with my…” He pauses, taking a moment to look around. “With a buddy of mine from college, I’m not sure where he went.” There’s a wry smile tugging at one edge of his mouth, and he reaches up absentmindedly to fiddle with the camera at his chest.

There is awkward silence for a long moment as Maya, Elise, and Jack Zimmermann, Alternate Captain of the Providence Falconers, stand in the middle of Providence’s Jack-o-Lantern Spectacular, surrounded by glowing pumpkins and falling darkness.

Then- “Is it that blonde one?” Maya asks, again with all of her tact gone out the window. Elise, next to her, looks mortified. “The southern one who bakes?”

“Maya means…” Elise trails off, apparently realizing that she has no idea what Maya actually means. “Well, we know you two know each other.”

Jack looks all of a sudden like he’s trying very hard not to turn tail and run. “What-”

“Elise is a fan!” Maya says hurriedly. “Of...Eric’s.”

“And you too!” Elise adds. “But I’ve been watching his videos for years.”

“Ah.” Jack huffs a laugh skyward. “Of course.” He scrapes a toe against the ground, looks away. “I should- I should probably go find him actually.”

Maya and Elise both nod, and after a round of polite but still awkward goodbyes, Jack begins to walk away, then stops and turns, thoughtfully, back toward Maya.

“By the way. Thanks for, um, defending me. On Twitter.” Jack says. “I owe you one.”

“Oh,” says Maya. “Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

 **Falconers Hockey** @PVDfalcs

Sorry for all the excitement @masohani! Follow us so we can DM some free tickets to our next home game for you & your girlfriend.

> **Maya-papaya** @masohani
> 
> Replying to @masohani @enews @PVDfalcs >>dssd
> 
> I met Jack Zimmermann for 15 minutes 2 months ago & I still have hockey fans asking me what type of soap he uses

**Fred Geiger** @fgeig

Holy shit @masohani @PVDfalcs

 **Fred Geiger** @fgeig

Replying to @fgeig @masohani @PVDfalcs

Shit shit shit can you get a third ticket

  

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

...I don’t even like hockey

 **falcsRUS-el** @russel_w

Replying to @masohani

if you turn down free falcs tix i will murder u

 **falcsRUS-el** @russel_w

Replying to @masohani @russel_w

ps ur a fuckin liar u love hockey

 

 **Maya-papaya** @masohani

Yo @PVDfalcs 3 tickets or nothing, my gf’s brother will cry if he can’t come too

 **Fred Geiger** @fgeig

Replying to @masohani @PVDfalcs

I was gonna be mad, but- true.

 **Falconers Hockey** @PVDfalcs

Replying to @masohani

Zimmermann: “We’d better do it.” 3 tickets, coming up!

 **Fred Geiger** @fgeig

Replying to @masohani @PVDfalcs

Holy shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP me, I actually read Reddit threads about men’s soap for this. Also, they were useless.
> 
> Maya and Russel work at a cute bookstore in on the east side that is not quite [this one](https://www.google.com/maps/place/Paper+Nautilus/@41.8299337,-71.3874294,3a,75y,90t/data=!3m8!1e2!3m6!1s-oF8xvqUauD8%2FVO4pCYCVL-I%2FAAAAAAAAAB8%2FNZH8nwXlP0IkJneG1rkkCT_jC6UScpAMwCJkC!2e4!3e12!6s%2F%2Flh4.googleusercontent.com%2F-oF8xvqUauD8%2FVO4pCYCVL-I%2FAAAAAAAAAB8%2FNZH8nwXlP0IkJneG1rkkCT_jC6UScpAMwCJkC%2Fw203-h203-k-no%2F!7i1969!8i1969!4m8!1m2!2m1!1sbookstore!3m4!1s0x89e4452c07c2bc59:0xfbfc0e5322a88443!8m2!3d41.8297097!4d-71.3872712) but is inspired by it. I image that theirs is much smaller, and on a street not far from Wickenden. 
> 
> The Jack-o-lantern Spectacular is very much a [Real Thing](http://www.goprovidence.com/blog/post/jack-o-lantern-spectacular-2016/). I haven't been to it yet but I'm so, so ready. 
> 
> Once again, feel free to come find me on [Tumblr](http://thegloriousfail.tumblr.com/). I love answering questions about my favorite girls.


End file.
